


Falling

by tenchsbitch



Series: Falling [1]
Category: Mindhunter (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Serial Killers, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:33:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26067295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenchsbitch/pseuds/tenchsbitch
Summary: A Bill/Reader slow burn seriesWhen Holden asked you to join him on road school with the BSU agent, Bill Tench, you didn’t need more than two seconds to decide. It was a no brainer. You were drawn to the psychology of crimes, but as a woman in the bureau, it was hard to work your way up the ladder. This was a chance for you to learn and get your name around Quantico. It could open up more opportunities for you within the bureau.Another thing you assumed when Holden asked for your help, was that Agent Tench knew about it. Which wasn’t the case. To say your professional relationship with him got off to a rocky start was an understatement.
Series: Falling [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1892320
Kudos: 15





	1. Welcome to the BSU

“Are you excited for our first day of school?” Holden smiled at you. The two of you sat outside of your shared apartment with packed suitcases, waiting on Bill to come pick you up. 

You held onto your warm cup of coffee and hummed a sleepy “mm hmm.” You leaned your head on your roommates shoulder and closed your eyes, wishing you could go back to sleep. The sound of a car horn startled you awake and your coffee splashed out onto the steps and a little on Holden’s shoes. “Sorry.” You you winced. 

He stood up, pushing on his legs. He reached his hand down to help you up, “Come on. Bill’s here.” You threw your cup away into the trash bin outside of your apartment building. “Y/n, this is Bill Tench. Bill, y/n.” 

Bill reached across the passenger seat and stuck his hand out of the window to shake your hand. “Hi.” He spoke in a deep voice. Your hand felt weak in his grasp. “You ready, Holden?” He put his hand back on the steering wheel. 

“Actually, y/n, is coming too.” Holden picked up the bags and placed them in the trunk. 

“Holden. We didn’t discuss this.” Bill sighed, releasing smoke from his mouth. 

“He didn’t know I was coming?” You scolded Holden. 

“It’s fine, I bought another plane ticket for her.” Holden opened the back car door for you. 

“Holden—“

“Bill, she’s coming with us. She just wants some insight and I think she’ll be valuable.” Holden sat in the front seat of the car. 

“We’ll talk about it later.” Bill put the car in drive and headed towards the airport. 

“So where are we headed?” You asked Bill, who was on his third cigarette since you and Holden entered the car. 

“Iowa.” He spoke shortly. 

You were hoping for more, but you were afraid to make the already awkward situation any worse. Your eyes went back and forth from watching the road and watching Bill’s demeanor go from angry to slightly annoyed to calm and back to slightly annoyed when Holden would speak. 

“I’m sorry about today. I had no idea it was just supposed to be you and Holden. I never would have agreed to come if I knew that.” You ranted. 

Bill sighed, blowing thick smoke through his lips. “It’s not your fault.” He glared at Holden, who seemed to sink into his seat. “So, what do you do at Quantico, y/n?” Bill asked.

You looked at Holden, like you needed his permission to talk. “Um.. I’m a special agent. I focus on victim consults, but I’ve been wanting to branch out. I told Holden about how I’ve been thinking about applying to the BSU.” 

“Really?” Bill’s eyes landed on yours through the mirror. “We could use some more people.” His readjusted his hand on the steering wheel after throwing a cigarette out of the window. “So how long have you and Holden been together?” 

Holden’s eyes widened, but he stayed silent. You choked on air in the backseat. You finished your coughing fit. “Holden?” You laughed. “We’re not together. We’re just roommates.” You laughed some more. 

“Okay, it’s not that funny.” Holden said, a little hurt that you found the idea of you two dating so humorous. 

“I’m sorry I just assumed—“ Bill started. He showed a small smile when you laughed him off. 

“No, it’s okay. Yeah, Holden and I have been friends since training.” You explained. 

___________

The plane ride was just as quiet. Bill sipped on a whiskey. Holden watched the clouds go by outside the window. And you sat in the middle, doodling on a small napkin. 

It wasn’t until the car ride to Iowa where the conversations picked up. “I have some slides made up, you can either sit back and watch me this time or you can take the lead on a few slides. We’re here to teach. These guys are eager to learn. They want to know what we know.” Bill told you and Holden. “Today might be a baptism of fire. They’re gonna be on edge. Just follow my lead.” 

“What happened?” Holden asked curiously. 

Bill threw a cigarette out of the window. “They caught a big case and they’re spooked. Don’t talk to any reporters.” His eyes darted to Holden, who he already learned, love to hear himself talk. “And please, for God’s sake, don’t say we’re from the FBI.” 

Bill turned the corner into the alleyway by the police station. The three of you exited the vehicle. Immediately, reporters surrounded you. You stood by the trunk, holding whatever Bill could fit in your arms. “Holden can come back for the rest.” Bill pushed a hole through the crowd and you followed behind him. 

“Motive, means, opportunity…” You listened to Bill make his speech. You watched him as he sat slouched on a desk. He’d been doing road school for so long, that he had his “lecture” mostly memorized. He said the same things in every lesson. He finished with a psychology slide and allowed Holden to work off of it. 

Holden started off okay. He presented new ideas. He got the attention of the officers. Bill stood up to compare the differences between homicide situations and hostage situations. “What if our killer is someone who’s not rational?” The room went silent. The officers hadn’t thought about ever being in a situations where someone didn’t have a direct target. 

Holden spoke his thoughts out loud, mentioning character and behavior. He lost most of the members in the precinct, so Bill was quick to make a lighthearted joke to gain their interest back. 

—————

The second day wasn’t any better. Holden somehow managed to piss off an older detective, who mentioned that he knew many of the officers that worked the Manson case. Bill tried to save Holden from drowning in the offended crowd. 

The lecture was cut short. Bill, frustrated, headed to the car, leaving you and Holden to pack up your things. 

“Do you really think Charles Manson was the best example for you theory, Holden?” You asked, gathering suitcases and monitors. 

“Y/n, please.” Holden took the heavy equipment in his hands and the two of you walked to the car together. He opened the trunk. “I don’t need to be lectured. I know what I was saying.” 

Bill only spoke once in the car, “are you guys hungry?” He asked. Holden was to embarrassed to respond, but you nodded. “There’s a diner down the road. I go there every time I come down here.” 

You sat in a booth next to Holden and Bill sat across from you. You had just gotten your coffee the rough looking detective from the station walked through the doors. “Oh, shit.” Holden groaned. 

“It’s okay, they always do this. Just be a good listener.” 

He reached a hand out to Bill, “Frank McGraw.” Bill nodded to him. He shook Holden’s hand as well and you introduced yourself when he took your hand in his. “I didn’t mean to embarrass anybody back there.” He apologized. 

“Not a problem.” Bill shook his head.

“We’re all a little tense around here. You must have heard about the mother and child who were murdered recently. Ada Jeffries and her boy.”

“We’ve seen the reporters.” You said. 

Frank discussed broad details of the case. “What’s on your mind, Frank?” Bill asked. 

“I hate to bother.” 

“By all means, bother us.” Bill moved over in his seat. 

Frank spoke more about the case. “Could you guys come back to the station and look at the file? Maybe there’s something I can’t see.” 

__________

You, Bill and Holden held the graphic pictures in your hands. You stomached down the blood and the broomstick while Frank spoke. “How’d he get in?”

“Bathroom window.” The photos were traded around. 

“This falls clearly into the category of lust murder. By that I mean, it’s sexually motivated.”

Frank squinted his eyes, “That cannot be about horny.”

“It’s more about the sexual gratification through the annihilation of another.” Bill explained. “Did you find semen?”

Frank made it known that they found some on a throw cushion, blood type O, and none in the victims. 

“So he didn’t rape them.” Bill said. 

“He could have problems with sex.” You thought out loud and Bill nodded at your theory. 

Frank mentioned that he didn’t have any suspects, fingerprints, shoe prints, hair. Like a ghost had done it. 

There was nothing left behind, leaving Holden to believe it had to have been premeditated to a degree. Holden’s original thought was that the boy was killed because he was a witness to the murder, but then Frank reminded him that the boy had been sodomized. “That’s a good point. Is this crime about the woman or about the child?” 

“You’re asking me?” Frank asked, offendedly. 

“I was just posing questions.” Holden tensed up. “The broomstick. Is it the same broomstick she used to sweep the church steps?” 

“What if it is?”

“He might be a congregant, maybe just someone passing through, but the church could be significant.” 

You and Bill stood off to the side, watching the intensifying exchange. 

“All I’m saying is, the broom may mean something.”

“What?!” Frank grew impatient at Holden’s theories. 

Holden blinked, “I don’t know.”

“It’s hard to tell from just the photos.” Bill stepped in.

“This woman was devoted to her child, tried hard, and some stranger came along and…. Come on, Agent Ford, you got fancy methods. What does a broomstick in the ass of a dirt poor single mom mean?!” Frank stood from his chair and slammed the folder on his desk.

You took a step back, feeling vulnerable surrounded by the men in the room. Bill noticed your demeanor change and he stood in front of you, blocking you from the detective’s glares. 

“We can’t help you with this.” Holden handed the photos back to Frank. 

“We need more time to go over this—“ Bill was cut off.

“We are in the dark here. We don’t know any more than you do.” 

“How fucking dare you?” Frank gritted his teeth. He looked like he wanted to punch Holden. 

“I’m sorry we wasted your time.” Holden stormed out of the door, but you were frozen in place. 

You didn’t move until you felt Bill’s hand on your arm, pulling you with him. When you got outside, Holden was already in the car, but Bill held you by the door. “Are you okay?” 

Bill’s eyes stared into yours. You became aware of his how bright his eyes were, even on the dimly lit sidewalk. You were distracted by them for a moment. He gave a gentle squeeze to your arm, pulling you way from your trance. “I’m fine.” You cleared your throat.

“Are you sure? I kind of lost you in there. Is that normal? Holden didn’t seem to notice.” Bill spoke with genuine concern. 

“Bill, I’m fine. It was just a lot at once, that’s all.” You tore your arm from his grasp. “I’m fine.” You repeating, hoping you’d believe it soon, when in reality, your heart was still racing. “Can we go?” You marched to the car and took your spot in the backseat. 

“Welcome to the BSU.” Bill sighed.


	2. Chapter 2

Once again, you were stuck between Holden and Bill. 

“Just, hey, do me a favor: Don’t ever fucking mention this to me again.” Bill spit at Holden while you and him gathered things for the stewardess to take. 

“I’m going to, Bill.” Holden 

“We’re here to teach—“

Holden interrupted Bill. “Chino, California Medical, California Men’s Colony, Norco, Soledad—“

“San Quentin!” You excitedly chimed in. The smile washed off your face when Bill glared at you. He shook his head.

“If you had said to me, ‘I want to become a Beach Boy, take up surfing, sit around smoking vibes—‘“ 

“Folsom.” 

“—Or, ‘I want to make it in the movies. Gonna get me a walk-up in West Hollywood and a Pekingese.’” 

“Manson is thirty miles away in Vacaville.” Holden stated, making it sound simple. 

“A hop, skip, and a jump.” Bill joked. “You really wanna meet Charlie Manson?”

“Why not?” 

“Swing by and say hi?” The stewardess took the items from you. “Thank you.” Bill and you spoke in unison. Bill leaned over you to voice at Holden. “Nobody wants to hear about that crazy motherfucker, you know this.” Bill sat back in his seat, getting out of your way. “Besides, when are you going to find the time for these fireside chats, Holden?” 

“I’ll figure it out.” 

*

You and Bill took the lead on the teaching job in San Francisco. Holden was, for lack of a better term, put in timeout. Which you were all too happy to make fun of at home. 

While you practiced reading some of Bill’s notes at you apartment, Holden was forced to listen instead of having an input. 

“In California every year, 35% of murders go unsolved.” Bill introduced his presentation. “It’s partly due to geography. In the woods, in the mountains, ravines, hiking trails. You have all this area to hide a body and not enough law enforcement to get there in time.” 

“And partially due to population.” You took over. “Of course the chances of having a killer in the area increases when the total population increases. Statistics tell us that 1 in 16 people are murderes and California has the largest population in all of the United States. That puts the state at high risk.” Bill clicked the slides for you as you lectured to the group. 

Bill sat on the edge of a table, watching closely to how you presented yourself in the room. You were probably the only woman in the room, yet that didn’t phase you. He inwardly admired how you held yourself high at the front of the room. Most of the women he knew were stay at home moms or school teachers. It was a new thing to him to see a young woman so interested in his line of work, and he would never admit it to anyone, but a woman who was just as good at the job with almost no experience. It came naturally to you. 

He was a little skeptical of how you would fit in after your reaction to the Ada Jeffries case, but you were eager to redeem yourself. 

“In a homicide case,..” It was Bill’s turn to teach again. You went back and forth between looking over your notes and admiring Bill.

Your eyes gazed over his broad shoulders and down his back. You watched the way he strode across the room, making his voice heard to every single person. 

He turned around and you blushed when his eyes met yours. 

You cleared your throat. “When strangers murder strangers for no apparent reason…” You stood up from you chair as Bill sat on the corner of the table, holding on to the clicker. “What do we do when it seems there is no motive?” You pointed to Bill, having him switch to the slide that read: PSYCHOLOGY. “That brings us to psychology. We’re called to figure out why that killer did what he did. Unlike homicide, who’s job is to find out who did it.” 

Bill was impressed. You were able to keep the crowd interested even when most men didn’t want to listen to a woman speak. 

Bill took over again, standing up from the uncomfortable spot he’d chosen to sit. You sat up on the long table and swung your legs below you. The lecture was coming to an end. Bill usually closed. “…borderline unfathomable.” He spoke. “And that’s why these points we gave you today can you help you better understand these types of killers. Thank you.” 

You hopped off of the table. “Okay, are there any questions?” 

Hands shot up in the air. “Yeah, I got one!” A young officer shouted. “You got a boyfriend back home, misss y/l/n?” 

You blushed and turned to Bill. “Okay, and now we’re not going to be answering questions. You can thank your colleague for that.” Groans were heard around the conference room. 

Holden met up with you and Bill at the front as the room started emptying. “Hey, a few of us are going to get a drink at The Jury Room. Do you guys want to come?” 

“I could use a drink.” Bill shrugged his shoulders. “What about you, y/n?” 

“Sure.” You nodded carelessly. 

Holden rode with some guy named Jim Conor and you went with Bill. 

“Hey, I’m sorry about that jackass in there.” Bill apologized. 

You shook your head, “No, it’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

“It’s just, some of these guys forget how to react around smart and attractive women.” 

You weren’t sure you heard him right. “You think I’m attractive?”

“Well I just mean… Those cops in there probably did.” He caught himself. 

“It’s okay, I’m just messing with you, Bill.” 

“Looks like Holden beat us here.” Bill held the door to the bar open for you. “I’m gonna call Nancy, I’ll meet you at the bar in a minute.” 

You sat next to Holden at the bar. 

“Ed was a busybody.” One of the detectives spoke.

“What are you guys talking about?” You asked.

“Ed Kemper, the—“ Holden started.

“The Coed Killer. Yeah, I’ve heard of him. He turned himself in didn’t he?” You finished.

“Called from a payphone. Confessed!” Jim Conor told the story. “We thought he was bullshitting. I drove him all the way back. He wouldn’t stop yakking. Going into forensic detail. I thought I hit the jackpot. After a few hours, I’m like, ‘Oh, God, please. Enough!” 

You and Holden listened to the story in awe. “You think Kemper would talk to us?” Holden asked. 

Jim Conor scoffed, “try stopping him.” 

“Who’s ‘us,’ kemosabe?” Bill voiced behind you, startling you from the attention you were giving Conor. 

“Hey, how’s Nancy?” You wondered. 

He ordered a whiskey and you copied his choice. “Fine. Brian’s already in bed.” He said shortly, giving you a confused look when you eyed your whiskey instead of drinking it.

You watched him down his in two drinks. You took a sip of it and it immediately burned your mouth. You coughed it back into the cup. “Not a big drinker?” He laughed.

“Not really…” Your face reddened in embarrassment. “Can I get a club soda?” You reordered. “Oh and can you put those little cherries in it?” 

Bill watched you easily drink your new beverage. He lit a cigarette beside him. 

“Excuse me.” A voice snuck up behind you. You swallowed your drink and turned around to see the young man. He reached out to shake your hand. “I’m James. I wanted to say sorry for the question I asked. It was inappropriate for me to ask you something like that while you were working.” 

It was the cop from the lecture. “Oh wow, I almost didn’t recognize you with normal clothes on.” You laughed. 

“Do you think I could buy you a drink? Of course my intentions are only to buy your forgiveness.” He smirked.

If looks could kill, you would have to add Bill to your next lecture. He was staring daggers into the officer, not that James noticed. James’ eyes were fixated on you. 

“Bartender!” He shouted. “May I?” This time his eyes met Bill’s. He asked for his seat. 

“Sure,” was all Bill grunted before downing his whiskey and moving over to the other side of Holden. He kept an eye on you though, until he remembered that his job here is to teach, not babysit. He fought the chivalrous urge he had inside of him. He wasn’t your father or your boyfriend, he barely knew you, so why did he feel the need to keep you safe?

James took the stool. “No.” You said.

“No?” He repeated. 

“No, I don’t have a boyfriend. I know that’s the real reason you came over here.” You chewed on your straw. 

He put his hands up, surrendering. “You got me.” You saw Bill and Holden walk out of the bar. “Looks like your ride is leaving.” James pointed out. 

“I think you’re right.” You hid the disappointment on your face. 

James leaned into you, lips grazing your ear. “Maybe we should get out of here too.” He placed a hand on your knee, testing his luck by sliding it forward. His lips made contact with your neck, but not for very long. “Do you have a room in town?” 

You closed your eyes, “I’m staying in a motel about 20 minutes away from here.” 

James pulled away, grabbing his wallet from his pocket and paying both tabs. “I’ll drive you.” He urged you to follow him to his car. 

*

It was still early in the night, around 7:30, when you got to the motel. James let you lead the way to your room. You spotted Bill’s car in the parking lot, but didn’t have time to think about it before James had you against the door. “At least let me unlock the door first.” James held his hand on your hip as you pushed open the door. You took off your shoes at the door. 

He pushed against the closed door. His lips discovered your body. His hands roughly moved over your hips and down to your thighs. His hand slid up your leg and his fingers rested on your panties. You felt him rub your arousal through the panties.

Your hands fingered at his buttons, pulling his shirt out of his pants and sliding it off of his shoulders. You ran your fingers through his coarse brown chest hair. 

He pulled your skirt down and onto the floor with your panties. His hands rested on your hips and guided you to the bed across the room while his lips stayed connected with yours. Your legs hit the bed and you fell back onto it. James’ hand cupped your cunt. “Fuck, are you always this wet or is it just for me?” He breathed into your neck. 

Your hands started unbuttoning your shirt to take it off, leaving you in your bra. “Um, I’m kind of always this wet.” You admitted, looking away. 

James didn’t respond with words, instead he put two fingers inside of you. You gasped and gripped your fingers onto his shirtless back. He pumped them inside of you. He planted a sloppy kiss on your lips, his tongue didn’t care to dance with yours, it was just kind of there, a warm, wet addition to your mouth. 

He didn’t care to bring you to an orgasm. “You think you’re ready for me?” 

You nodded and brought yourself up to front of the bed as James undid his belt and pants, pulling them down to expose his pale cock. You took the time to take off your bra. He pulled out a condom from his wallet and slipped it on before holding his body above yours. He buried his cock in you in one rough thrust. 

There weren’t many words shared between you two as James thrusted his hard cock into you. He was more vocal than you in regards to moans. He grunted into your neck and rolled his hips against yours. It was clear that he was more interested in his own release than yours. 

Not feeling any satisfaction, you wanted to hurry it along. “Harder.” You moaned against James’ shoulder. “Faster.” 

His hand groped your breasts, pinching your nipples. His thrusts began to lose rhythm and he bit your shoulder as he came into the condom. “Fuck. That was good.” He pulled out of you, discarding the condom in the bin by the bed. He caught his breath. “I should probably go.” He reached for his clothes, slipping them on. “Can I uh..” He pulled his shirt on over his head. “Can I call you?” 

You put your panties and shirt on, rummaging through your bag for some aspirin. “Um, I don’t think so. We go all over the country and I don’t think I’ll be back here soon.” You quickly lied. You filled up a cup of water, downing two pills, hoping to get rid of your own headache and the walking one you let drive you home. 

“Oh, well, see ya then, I guess.” He walked towards the door. 

“Probably not,” you muttered, hearing the door shut behind you and watching the headlights shine through you window, just to vanish. 

*

You woke up to pounding on the door. Your headache was still there. You didn’t bother to dress properly and stumbled to the door. “What?” You barked, opening the door to see Holden and Bill. 

“Jesus Christ.” Bill turned his head. 

You had your panties on, your shirt covered it mostly and your nipples were visible through the thin fabric. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight for Holden, but it was for Bill. His face turned a faint shade of pink, something that he could have blamed on the hot California sun if anyone called him out on it. 

“You’re not ready?” Holden asked, pushing his way into your room. 

“Shit, what time is it?” You rubbed your temple as your eyes followed Holden around your room. 

“It’s 9:00, we’re supposed to be heading to the airport soon.” Holden examined the room. “Late night?” He asked. 

Bill stood by the door, refusing to look in your direction. “When you two are done with your— whatever you’re doing, I’ll be in the car.” 

You roll your eyes at him, searching for your day clothes. “You could say that I guess.” 

He spotted the open aspirin bottle on the table. “Did you get a migraine?” 

You sigh, “it’s just a headache, Holden. I’m fine.” You finished dressing yourself while Holden gathered your things together. “Come on, I don’t want Bill to hate me more than he already does.” 

Holden scoffed, “Bill doesn’t hate you.” You raised your eyebrows. “Okay, maybe a little, but not anymore than he hates me.” 

“I guess that’s a good thing?” 

“He just needs to get to know you better. And I’m sure keeping us up last night didn’t help.” Your eyes widened. “This motels have thin walls.”


	3. Chapter 3

The long nights, the fast food, the stuffy car, the bad coffee, the jet lag, oh my god, the fucking jet lag. Every city you went to took more and more energy from you. Besides that, Holden was more interested in his meetings with Ed Kemper than he was in actually teaching, leaving you and Bill to carry the workload. Holden still did his part, but his mind wasn’t all there. Mentally, he was working on his interview strategy with Ed Kemper. 

You either stayed back at the hotel while Bill golfed or you and him sat at bars, mostly in silence, sipping at your very different drinks. Although you were certain you wouldn’t be getting drunk off of club sodas, Bill never drank more than he could without being impaired. He always insisted on driving and always stood up from his stool saying, “come on, we have work to do tomorrow.” 

At the next lecture, Bill noticed the sudden disinterest in his partner’s disposition and as a result, gave you a night off. You were still obligated to go to put in your office hours, but you didn’t have to lecture. You gladly agreed and took a seat in the crowd for the first time in a while. You found comfort rough and sultry voice of Bill and the soft voice of Holden. There were many nights when you fell asleep listening to Holden rant to himself in your shared apartment. 

You tried not to focus on Bill’s inhales before he spoke or the way he emphasized certain words to get the point across. The way your heart fluttered while you listened to him made you feel guilty in a strange way. You tried to tell yourself it was just a stupid crush and that it’s normal especially considering the amount of time the two of you have spent together. It was just an innocent crush. 

You blinked and the presentation was over. You helped carry equipment to the car outside. Holden opened a door for you, and when you looked back up a detective had gotten your coworkers’ attention. You didn’t catch what he said, but you heard Holden and Bill thanking him. 

“Listen, before you go, I was hoping I could ask you something. I know you’re not just here to teach.” Detective Carver spoke. 

“No, we really just teach, Roy.” Bill answered. 

Your head faced Holden, “Pretty much all we focus on.” He added. 

“I was hoping I could get you to take a look at something a little… unusual.” 

“Oh, sure thing.” Bill closed the door of the car and started to head towards the police station entrance. 

You and Holden eagerly followed. Inside the station, you stood beside Bill and Holden stood on the other side of him. 

Roy Carver was behind his desk, handing pictures to Bill. “Her name’s Rosemary Gonzales. 73 years old. Her husband died of cancer so she sold the family farm in Chico, moved to Sacramento to be closer to the grandkids.” He recalled. “Two weeks ago, we find her beaten within an inch of her life in a doorway to her back porch. She hasn’t been robbed. She’s been groped and assaulted but not penetrated. And the little dog’s throat’s been cut.” 

Bill analyzed the pictures. There was a glare from where you stood, but you could make out the image of en elderly woman severely bruised in a hospital bed. Her eyes were swollen and red and she had tubes all around her face. She was in a neck brace and from the looks of it, you’d say she was lucky to be alive, but the numb look she had in her eyes made you think she wouldn’t feel the same way. Bill moved the picture to the back and showed the picture of Rosemary Gonzales from a second angle. You tightened your eyes for a moment when he moved that photo as well. The image of a white dog was photographed laying in a pool of blood around his head. Whoever did this, was not showing mercy by leaving Rosemary Gonzales alive. 

“Was the dog killed because it was protecting her?”

“Or for some other reason?” Holden interjected Bill’s question. 

“That I don’t know. But it’s interesting.” 

Bill turned to face you. “Why didn’t he stab her?” He phrased the question like it was a test.

You shook your head, “He didn’t have the nerve?” 

“I don’t think some Latino with a shiv got scared of a little old lady.” Roy interrupted and leaned back in his chair.

“Why do you say that? Why do you say ‘Latino’ like that?” You crinkled your brows at the detective. 

“That’s the neighborhood.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Spics and blacks.” 

“Did she identify anybody of that ethnicity?” Bill blinked through the question. 

“No.” You sensed a ‘but.’ “She was hovering in and out of a coma for the past ten days. Now she’s finally come around, she had no recollection whatsoever.” Roy explained. It was obvious that the detective had no clue who had committed the crime and was focusing on whoever was closest. “You think it’s about a little dog?”

Bill shrugged his shoulders, “Scottish Terriers can be loud. Their bark…” 

“Could be annoying.” Holden and you nodded in agreement. 

“Listen…,” Roy leaned over his desk and looked up at the three of you through his oversized glasses. “We need to know exactly how worried we need to be.” 

“I think we should go visit her?” You asked. “See if she’s remembered anything since she’s been interviewed last?”

Roy nodded, “Yeah, I can call the family, let them know we’ll come by in the morning.” 

—————

Holden and Bill were used to sharing rooms on the road and you enjoyed the mostly quiet nights. This night, however, was not quiet. Between the couple going at it in the next room and the loud humming of the air conditioner, you couldn’t relax your brain. You tried to drown the sounds out with the tv, but the only options were pay-per-view porn and the weather channel, anything else on the box was coupled with static in the background. 

You gave it another five minutes before you decided to leave the austere hotel room. You knocked on the door next to yours, hoping that you weren’t waking anyone up. You stood in the hallway in small shorts and a simple black t-shirt, suddenly becoming aware of how well the air conditioner worked in this particular hotel. You held onto your arms after another knock. The sound of something falling in the room and then the door was quickly opened by a giggly and slightly buzzed Holden. It wasn’t a new image of him. Although, you spotted Bill in the back of the room with a look on his face similar to that of a new dog owner. He looked overwhelmed, like he needed help training Holden. 

“Are you going to invite me to the party?” You pushed your way past Holden, eyeing the empty chair next to Bill. Holden closed the door behind you, taking another sip of beer before stumbling to his bed. “How are you?” You asked Bill, who sat at the table, nursing on an almost empty beer bottle. 

“Fucking exhausted.” He sighed and you almost felt like you were intruding. Did he want you to leave? You were reassured when he offered you a bottle of beer, which you refused. He’d forgotten that you don’t drink.

“Me too.” You say almost too quickly. You opened your mouth to speak again, but decided against it. It didn’t go unnoticed by Bill. 

He raised his eyebrows. “Wanna talk about it?” 

You thought carefully about your next words, but anyway they floated together in your head, they didn’t fit right. “I can’t help but feel like you don’t like me very much.” You admitted.

He laughed. You didn’t think it was that funny, but you couldn’t help but smile at his joyful expression. “Y/n, if I didn’t like you, would I have let you sit down with me tonight? Or would I allow you to go on Road School still?” 

It was a fair question. “I guess not.” You wanted to sink into your chair, thinking that you made the situation worse. 

“I guess we lost Holden.” Bill huffed a laugh. 

You laughed back, “Wow, he’s usually the last one to fall asleep.” 

“Tell me something, y/n. What do you think about these interviews Holden is having with Kemper?” 

You purse your lips at the question. “I think it’s interesting.” You knew that wasn’t what Bill wanted to hear. “I don’t like how he’s doing it, but I think in the long run, it could be a good thing. It could help us do our job better.” 

“That’s what I was afraid of.” He finished his second bottle of beer. “Holden’s been pushing me to go with him and I just don’t see the point. What makes him think Kemper’s not lying to him?” It was a rhetorical question. 

You gave your opinion. “I wouldn’t go if you felt uncomfortable about it. Don’t let him bully you about it.” You laugh, hoping to lighten the mood. 

He showed a small smile before ending the conversation. “It’s getting late and we need to get up early to meet Carver.” 

You read between the lines, standing up from your chair. Bill walked you to the door, holding it for you. “Thanks for letting me come over tonight.”

Bill nodded a ‘you’re welcome’ before you were off back to your room. 

You laid on the lumpy motel mattress and stared up at the popcorn ceilings and dusty vent covers. Your eyelids felt heavy as you listened to the humming of the air conditioner by the large window. 

—————

That morning, the three of you grabbed a quick breakfast downstairs before meeting Roy at the police station. He drove you to Mrs. Gonzales’ home. You sat in the back with Holden, listening to Roy reviewing the case once more. 

You sat in a chair beside Rosemary and Bill sat across from her. Roy and Holden stayed standing near the entrance. 

Roy reintroduced himself and introduced the rest of you to Rosemary and her caregiver. “Do you think you can remember anything from that night?” He asked. 

“My husband would’ve cried to see me like this.” Rosemary began “Me, I don’t cry. I’m tough. But he was just like a baby. It would’ve destroyed his faith in humanity. What did I ever do? Who would do such a thing? I never hurt a soul. I don’t have any enemies. I don’t dress like a whore. I’m an old lady—“ She coughed through a couple tears. “Está bien.” 

“Mrs. Gonzales, this is not your fault.” You tried to reassure her. You held her fragile hand in yours. 

Bill cut you off. “Let me ask you something: Did your dog ever bite anyone?” 

“Never.” Rosemary answered quickly.

“Ever bother anyone by barking? Any complaints from neighbors?” Bill continued.

“No. He was very well-behaved.” She explained. 

Holden peered out of the window, examining the neighborhood. “Who cuts the grass, Rosie?” 

“Who helps you take care of the yard?” Bill rephrased the question. 

“I have all sorts of help.” Rosemary explained. “Kids mostly.” 

“Which kids?”

“Just local kids.” She said. “It’s a very close community.” 

“And you didn’t recognize your assailant? He wasn’t familiar?” Bill asked. 

“I just don’t remember.” Bill nodded understandably. You were sure Rosemary was getting tired of having to tell the authorities that she couldn’t remember and you gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Do you have kids?” Holden asked. 

“Two daughters.”

“Married?” 

Rosemary recalled, “The eldest is divorced. Dios mío. The younger I don’t see that often.” 

“Can you remember anything else? Was he big, little? Do you remember any moles, scars, tattoos, distinctive marks?” Holden pushed, trying to trigger a memory from the elderly woman. 

She thought back. “I remember moonlight. And…” Something stuck out. “I do remember a smell.” 

Holden had his pad and paper ready. “What kind of smell?” 

“I don’t know, he just… stank.” 

“Like what? Grease or gasoline, fertilizer?” Bill listed. 

“Like a bum.” Rosemary interrupted. “Like somebody who needed to wash.” 

Holden stood up, “Thank you Rosie. You were really helpful.” Bill and Roy nodded to her. 

You gave her hand one last squeeze before standing up. You met her caregiver in the hallway, smiling at Rosemary, before turning to the caregiver. “If she remembers anything at all, please call us.” 

“I will.” She said, opening the door for the team. 

You got into the backseat of detective Carver’s car with Holden. Bill sat in the front. There was a still silence in the car as the four of you played the meeting with Rosemary Gonzales over in your head. None of you could understand how a person could do something like that to another, let alone a defenseless elderly woman. That person would have to have pure hate in their heart. 

“How about some lunch?” Roy turned the key in the car. 

“I could eat.” Bill nodded. You and Holden nodded your heads in the back as well. 

“There’s a diner near the station, reviews are good.” 

————

You sat on the outside of a booth next to Roy with a plate of fries and bland coffee in front of you. It wasn’t five star quality food, but it wasn’t quite the worst either, compared to some of the meals you had on the road.

“Seventeen, eighteen-year-old high school kid, low self-esteem, hates authority, doesn’t get along well with his parents.” 

“What, just some punk?” Roy didn’t seem convinced. 

Holden continued, “Maybe he gets a hold of a bottle of liquor and comes across the house, recognizes the place because he cut the grass there when he was younger.” 

“Some neighborhood kid?” Roy interrupted, still stuck on the fact that maybe there was a possibility that kid actually did commit this crime.

“He goes inside. She doesn’t recognize him, thinks he’s broken in, and starts yelling.” 

You watched as Bill took a bite of his sandwich and pushed it away in disappointment. You listened to Holden’s theories intently. 

“The fight gets physical. He’s drunk, he breaths the shit out of her. He knifes the dog because the dog is yapping its head off. And then he runs.”

“Are you guys serious? A teenager?” 

Holden explained, “He has bad hygiene. Doesn’t bathe because bathing is what his parents want.”

“It makes sense,” you agreed. “Even if you’re not drunk, teenagers find everything annoying and their minds are incredibly hard to understand. Most teenagers profile as psychopaths during psych evals.” You explained your opinion for agreement. Bill nodded with you, taking a sip of coffee to wash down the aftertaste of his sandwich. 

Roy heard your commentary, but in his mind, he just couldn’t see how a teenager could be capable of such a crime. “Look, we got a lot of kids like that around here. But what kind of degenerate carves up a little dog?” 

Bill thought about it. “Maybe the kid saw the dog in the yard, decided to conduct a moonlight experiment with his Bowie knife, gets interrupted.”

“A careful, considerate old lady would bring her dog in at night. She went outside with the dog because she heard something.” Holden revised. 

“I’d bring my dog if I had thought there was someone in my yard in the middle of the night.” You agreed. 

Holden spoke with teasing judgement, “you don’t have a dog. Or a yard.” 

You were about to make a remark about how he’s close enough to a puppy that it’d be too hard to take care of him and a dog, but Roy wanted to get back on track. 

“Listen. It was a harvest moon. We have been tossing the idea around that maybe it’s one of these, uh… you know.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, not wanting to scare the waitress that was walking by the table. “Satanic deals. You know, like maybe the dog is some kind of ritual sacrifice or something.” 

Bill checked his watch, clearing his throat and showing the golden band to Holden. Roy took the hint and waved down the waitress for the check.

“You need to squeeze the neighborhood kids. One of them knows something.” 

“We did have one kid like that. Brought him in for questioning. Twice.” Roy admitted.

“Bring him in again.” Holden said simply. The four of you moved to stand up from the booth. 

Roy nodded in understanding. “We’re gonna get pushback from the family. His aunt works for the county.”

“Then make it formal.”

“I’m probably gonna need a warrant.” Roy thought. 

“We might be able to help you with that.” Holden sounded optimistic. Bill shot him a surprised look and sighed before leading the three of you out of the diner and back to Roy’s car and the police station. 

—————

No matter how fast Bill drove, there was no way you would be making it to the airport in time. It didn’t matter how determined he was and he seemed to believe that his repetition of hitting the steering wheel and angrily groaning ‘fuck,’ made the cars in front of him move faster. 

Holden kept turning around in the front seat to give you a look that you could only interpret as ‘this better not be how I die.’ 

To which you responded with a roll of your eyes that said, ‘don’t be dramatic.’ When in reality, you were thinking the same thing as Holden when Bill miscalculated the distance between him and the next car on the highway. The gesture from the driver in the other car only intensified Bill’s hankering to get home and away from the world. So when you did finally make it to the airport to discover that your plane was in fact already gone, you chose to keep the taste of ‘I told you so’ in your tightly closed mouth. 

As Bill entered the glass payphone booth, Holden turned his body in his seat. “What’s wrong with him?” 

You turned around in the backseat to see that Bill was putting quarters in the machine and you could almost hear our angrily he was doing it from the car. “He’s probably mad that his lunch wasn’t as good as Roy talked it up to be.” You laughed, but Holden kept a serious face. “Seriously, he’s probably just tired. We all are.” You defended. 

“Fuck!” You heard the muffled sound of Bill’s exclamation through the booth. As he stepped out and got closer to the car you heard him explain, “Nancy’s gonna kill me. We can’t get a flight till Sunday.“ He opened the trunk of the car and threw his suitcase back in. The car shook as he slammed the trunk shut, bitterly, and the same with the driver’s side door. 

Holden was unfazed by the situation and his mind was back on the Gonzales case. “Maybe this kid’s like Kemper.” 

“We have to get a room.” Bill talked over Holden. 

“I can take care of the room.” Holden offered. “We can turn this into an opportunity. It could help with the Gonzales case.” 

Bill exhaled, “I can’t believe I’m stuck with you.”

“We can talk to Kemper.” 

“No!” Bill became more offended every time Holden asked for Bill to accompany him to the prison. 

“Come with me.” 

“I’m not consulting with Ed Kemper.” 

You sat in the back, eyes going back and forth between the two men, trying to imagine them in a room with one of the craziest serial killers you’ve ever heard of. 

“Not to consult. Just background. When did his behavior escalate?” Holden was already coming up with his questions in his head. 

“You can’t stay away from that motherfucker, can you?” 

You couldn’t help the uplift of your lips when Holden asked, “Bill, please. Don’t say ‘motherfucker.’” Then he was back on trying to convince Bill. “You know that he’ll respond to your seniority.” Another ‘no’ from the older agent and Holden had to play another card. “We’re stuck here all weekend. What else are you gonna do?” 

This time, you had something to say, albeit hesitantly. “It could be helpful, Bill.” You were going to add more, but the way Bill looked back at you with a stern glare and furrowed eyebrows made you sink back into your seat. It wasn’t like you to back down from a fight, but the look in his eyes made you wish you didn’t share your thoughts. 

He looked back at Holden who was about to speak again. “I said forget about it, man.” 

Of course, Holden wouldn’t drop it. Bill was testing him on high he could get Holden’s requests. “I would have settled for the free beer.” He smiled. 

“Wait, you’re really going?” Holden asked, surprised. 

“I’m not going to like it.” 

“I’m not asking you to.” At that, Holden decided stay quiet and take the win. He planned out his questions and thought about how he would show Bill around.

“What about y/n?” Bill looked at you through the rearview mirror seeing how you had your eyes closed and your head resting on the window. He subconsciously began driving slower and minding the dips in the road, so as not to wake you up. 

“Can’t she come with us?” Holden said, unconcerned.

Bill gave him a surprised look. “You want y/n to sit across the room from a man who killed 10 people? 8 of whom were young women.” Holden still didn’t seem to show worry, so Bill asked, “will he be handcuffed?” He noticed Holden’s mouth open as if he were going to speak, but he chose not to. “What?” He said snappily.

Hesitantly, he responded. “I ask them to take the cuffs off.” 

“You do what?!” The shout woke you up from your nap, giving you a migraine. “Jesus Christ, Holden. Why don’t you just take him out for dinner while you’re at it. I swear you have no concept of right and wrong.” 

“Bill, you’re overreacting. He just wants someone to talk to. He’s not going to hurt anyone, he’s in a prison.” 

Bill sighed, “if anything happens in there, it’s on you.” 

“What’s going on?” You blinked. 

Holden took the responsibility of announcing that you’d be joining them to talk to Kemper. You were more surprised than Holden when he told you Bill was going too.


	4. Chapter 4

Holden was too eager to show you and Bill around the prison. Bill had to remind him that this wasn’t his first time inside of a prison. Nevertheless, Holden pointed out some of the inmates and introduced you to some of the officers. He and another officer led you and Bill to the empty visiting room. He showed you the cheap coffee bar, which you gladly took a cup from, following Bill’s choice to do so. Then you found a seat, just after the guard told you that Ed Kemper would be brought in shortly. You sat in a chair next to Bill’s dangling legs, facing the table that Holden sat at.

You heard the sounds of footsteps and jangling chains before you actually saw the convicted serial killer. You’d seen pictures of him on the news and in the papers, but they didn’t do him justice. He was beyond tall. He was giant. He didn’t look like a serial killer. He looked like a regular man. Then again, that’s how most of them look. That’s why they’re so hard to catch. When you hear about the crimes, your brain thinks ‘monster’ not ‘neighbor.’ 

The moment he walked into room, he couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with you. He was familiar with Holden, so he focused his attention on him until he noticed Bill beside you. “So, you’re the big boss, right? He moved his hands as he spoke before placing them under the table in his lap.

Bill cleared his throat, “Well, I established the Behavioral Science Unit years ago, but Holden’s come in with a lot of new ideas.” He was already hating this.

“So Holden’s the intrepid rookie investigator?” Ed’s lifeless eyes fell back to Holden and you saw a faint smile on his lips. 

You were surprised to see the smile. In your mind, you thought a man like him could never be capable of it. 

“Actually, Bill taught me everything I know about criminal behavior.” Holden informed.

“Is that right?” Ed’s eyes momentarily flashed to you, but shifted to Bill just as quickly. “Well, let me ask you something, Bill. What do you think of Joseph Wambaugh?” Another smirk played on his face and you were beginning to forget you were inside of a prison talking to a killer. 

You looked at Bill, wondering what’d he say, but Holden spoke instead. “He knows Joe. Right, Bill?” 

Bill shrugged his shoulders, “Well…” 

Holden continued, “Actually, he based a lot of that stuff on Bill?” 

“No shit.” An even bigger smile appeared on Ed’s face and you weren’t as uncomfortable before. 

“Not the stories, but the psychological insights and the vernacular.”

“That is fascinating. I sure would love to pick your brain sometime.” 

Bill quickly responded, “Well, that’s another life sentence right there.” You and Ed laughed at the joke, but not for very long. Holden wanted to get to business. Bill looked down at you, smirking at his own wit and the reaction he got, but the reminder that he was in a prison across from a man who’s murdered multiple people; multiple women, made him correct the smirk on his face and go back to a scowl. 

Luckily, Holden began the questioning right after and there was no more forgetting what Ed Kemper was capable of. “Maybe tell him the thing that you told me the other day about your mother.”

Ed pursed his lips. “My mother.” His glance shifted from Holden to you, like he wanted you to hear everything that was about to come out of his mouth, and then on Bill. “Well, you see, Bill even as a child, I had kind of a rich fantasy life. As a teenager, I began cutting up inanimate objects. G.I. Joe. My sister’s dolls. Ripping their heads off, cutting up the bodies. Mutilating them, if you will.” 

“You had fantasies of what? Real women?” Bill wondered.

“Oh, yeah.” Ed said with no hesitation. As if it was a normal thing. “And my mother would yell and scream at me, tell me I was sick. She thought I was going to do something hideous one day.” 

Holden asked, “what did she think you were going to do?” 

Ed thought about it. “I guess rape my sister or something. This when I was ten years old.” He continued to talk about his home life and how horrible his mother was, which you couldn’t deny. She seemed like a scary woman, but did she deserve to die like that? Absolutely not. 

Ed talked about how he moved on from the dolls and toys to dogs and cats as a way to vent. He really said vent and your brain could not process that. Killing is not a coping mechanism. Venting is talking to your mom or going out for a run. Somewhere along the lines, Ed got it twisted and thought that was the right thing to do. “Classic displacement activity” he called it. “Because it was my retreat from the insanity of the world. Then, you see—“

“Sorry. Wait a minute.” Holden held a finger up, stopping Ed so that he could catch up on his notes. 

Bill carried on with the questions. “Is that why your mother sent you away?” 

“In the end, I ran away to live with my father, but he didn’t want me either. So they packed me off to live with my grandma. She thought I was a freak.” This started him on his hatred for women. 

He talked about his time in the mental institution and his experience when he got out. The whole time, he didn’t want to look at you. Especially when the question of sex was raised. You weren’t sure if it was because he was trying not to look or if he just genuinely wanted to pretend like you weren’t there. Until he described how he killed his mom. 

“You see, Bill. I knew a week before she died that I was gonna kill her. She went out to a party, she got soused, she came home alone. I asked her how her evening went. She just looked at me. She said, ‘for seven years. I haven’t had sex with a man because of you, my murderous son.’” His eyes were now glued to you and you couldn’t find the strength to look away from his demonized eyes. “So I got a claw hammer and I beat her to death. Then I cut her head off… And I humiliated her.” He closed his eyes, remembering the moment in detail. When he opened his eyes again, he was looking at Holden. “And I said, ‘there. Now you’ve had sex.” 

The descriptions of his acts and the way he put the blame on his mother sent shivers down you spine. And not the good kind you got when someone kissed your neck in the right spot. It was a cold kind of chill that went deep into your bones and you couldn’t stop the look of disgust that crept to your face. Even though the words that flowed from the monster’s lips shook you to the core, you couldn’t keep from listening. There was something about his intelligence and calm composure that fascinated you. 

You could tell it had the opposite affect on Bill. He finally voiced his opinion in the busy airport. “Are you happy now?” He scowled at Holden in the plastic seat beside him. “You got what you wanted?” 

“Actually, yes.” Holden said, smugly. 

Bill opened his mouth to tell the younger man off, but you interrupted as he breathed in. “That’s our flight.” 

Bill got up with a grunt at your announcement, still frustrated that he let Holden talk himself into conversing with a murderer. He didn’t speak for most of the flight, so neither did Holden. Which you were thankful for because it meant you’d be able to get some sleep. 

—————

That night, you were so jetlagged that you couldn’t fall asleep in your own bed, so you were in a grumpy mood when you were forced to listen to Holden recall the interview with Kemper in the morning. You had to remind him multiple times that you were there today. 

“Bill thinks we should tell Shepard.” 

Now he had your attention. “About the meetings with Kemper?” 

“Yeah, he thinks it’d be better for him to find out from us than from the prison guards.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Do you think he’d tell him behind your back?” You wondered. You didn’t know Bill very well, after all. You didn’t know what he was capable of. Was he a stickler for the rules? You know Holden’s not. 

Holden stood against the cabinets with a cup of coffee in his hand. Licking a drop of dark liquid off of his lips, he spoke, “I can’t say. I hope not. I told him I just need a couple more months. He’s worried he’ll lose his job.” 

“I don’t blame him. Meeting with a convicted killer is a big deal, Holden. Do you think he could be right?” 

Holden was getting restless, “I don’t know, y/n—“ The blaring sound of the phone on the wall cut him off. 

“Saved by the bell.” You said before Holden took the cream colored phone in your hand. 

The stoic look on his face didn’t improve the longer he was on the phone and you were left to stand and wonder what had him looking so pale. He seemed to have hung up the phone rather quickly though. “That was Bill.” He started. “Shepard wants to see us.” 

The timing couldn’t have been worse. After what you were just talking about. “Well, did Bill say he told Shepard about Kemper?” 

“No.”

“Did he seem surprised? Is Shepard mad? Was Bill mad?” You harassed him with questions while the both of you quickly got ready for work. You were clearly more frantic than Holden was. He had the habit of always thinking things would work out for the better for him. 

“I don’t know, y/n. We’re going to go to work. We’re going to meet with Shepard. And we’re going to be fine.” He made sure to look directly into your eyes. He knew how to calm you down. He just wanted you to be quiet for a minute so that he could think. This must have been what you felt like all the time when Holden wouldn’t shut up and you just wanted to sit and sip your coffee in peace. 

Holden nearly pushed you out of the door and down the stairs to the parking lot. He didn’t like to show it, but he was anxious. He talked real fast and drove even faster. Bill was pacing at the front doors of the bureau when you arrived and that made the both of you all the more nervous. You had to jog to catch up with their fast strides.

Holden spoke and you could hear the stomp of his feet in his breath, “Have you heard anything?” 

Bill didn’t look over to answer. “Not since I called you.” 

You finally had a break to catch your breath in the elevator and my god, when did you get such out of shape. You held onto the rails in the corner of the elevator. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Bill turned his head around to see you. 

Holden, to hear his own voice, answered for you. “She doesn’t like elevators.” 

He shook his head like a disappointed parent. “Get it together, we’re just going to Shepard’s office.” 

He said ‘just,’ but it reminded you of getting sent to the principals office. Not that it happened very often, which is probably why it scared you so much. 

The doors slid open and you were back to chasing the footsteps of Bill and Holden. Being behind them, you noticed how opposite they looked of each other. Besides size and age, Bill walked with his shoulders slouched like he was carrying the weight of the world on top of him. Holden moved in a straight line, his elbows didn’t bend very much when he walked and he resembled a robot. He had a young stride that made him seem like he never had to work for anything in his life. 

Before opening the door to the office, Bill held a hand up to shuffle Holden back by you. “I don’t want either of you talking unless someone asks for your input.” You nodded and Holden did too, but not as quickly. 

You barely had time to process the layout of the room before Shepard’s bold and aggressive voice was beaming towards the three of you, who stood in a triangle formation behind the two chairs in front of Shepard’s desk. “Did you tell a detective in Sacramento you would intercede with the district attorney on behalf of the FBI? Some DA called me and asked why I had two agents in Sacramento. ‘Two goons,’ his exact words.” 

Holden already abandoned his promise of keeping his mouth shut. “It’s a strange case. The locals were struggling. We were trying to figure a way forward.” 

“What were you thinking?” 

Bill looked over at Holden to remind him of the agreement you made in the hallway. “At the time, we deemed this of great urgency. The circumstances were unusual.” 

Shepard furrowed his eyebrows, trying to understand why any of you were so concerned with the case in the first place. He looked like he was beginning to regret assigning you and Holden to assist with Road School. “Assault and battery? Since when does the FBI consult on that? Not even a homicide.” 

“Unless you count a dog.” You muttered and it earned you a glare from Bill. You looked back down at the carpet, looking for a pattern to trace with your eyes. 

Luckily, Shepard didn’t respond to the comment. “Bill, the past three years I’ve heard you complain about how overworked you are with road School. I gave you your assistant. I gave you two of them, and this is how you choose to spend your time?” It was a rhetorical question. He liked Bill, so he didn’t really need an apology or excuse from him. “I trust you understand my position on this. Is there anything else you want to tell me?” 

Bill opened his mouth to speak and you felt your breath catch deep in your gut. You could have sworn the sound of your racing heartbeat swarmed the office. This was it. You were losing your job. You felt dizzy waiting for the words to leave Bill’s lips, but they never came and you could finally release the breath that you didn’t realize you had been holding. 

“Close the door on your way out.” 

Bill didn’t say another word as you walked away from the office. He didn’t say anything the rest of the walk back to the elevator or back outside to the front entrance. Once again it felt like another wedge being thrown between the Road School crew.


	5. Chapter 5

Holden woke you up early in the morning and way too excited for your taste. “Y/n! Wake up! We need to go pick up Bill!” 

That got your attention. “Is he okay?” 

“He’s fine, we need to go to work.” He barely gave you enough time to get dressed and ready for work. He rushed you out of the door and to the car. He didn’t bother opening the door for you or waiting for you to close it and buckle up before he was pulling out of the parking lot and into the road.

“Can’t you tell me what’s going?” You asked. If Holden didn’t constantly get excited like this, you’d probably be worried for both of your safety. 

“We should wait for Bill.” He said, keeping his eyes glued to the road. 

You scoffed, “I swear to God, Holden, if you woke me up to go plan birthday party or something, I’m moving out.” This wasn’t the first time you threatened it and Holden didn’t think it was the funny after the first ten times. 

“I’m not. Trust me, you’ll want to be in on this.” Somehow you didn’t believe him. Holden was never very good at presenting surprises. 

When you arrived to Bill’s house, you could tell he wasn’t expecting you. You watched him try to say goodbye to his son, but you had to turn your eyes away when he couldn’t get a hug from him. He looked sad as he approached the car. You felt bad for him and if you knew him a little better, maybe you would have gifted him with a hug. 

“Get in the backseat.” Holden stole you away from your thoughts. It was probably a good thing. Who knows what else you would have imagined before Bill finally got to the car. You were able to shake off the feeling of sorrow that Bill radiated off of him from the sidewalk leading to the street. 

“What?” You were offended. “Why?”

Holden looked at you and you knew you didn’t really have a choice. “Because Bill’s going to sit in the front. Just move.” 

When you got out, Bill stood in front of you, suitcase in hand and his eyelids drooping in the same way his shoulders did. He looked even more stressed than yesterday. “Hi.” The quiet and simple greeting almost made you want to laugh. 

“Hi.” You said back. 

He leaned down to look past you and though the window, “how do you know where I live?” 

Holden also leaned his head down to see Bill better. “Personnel gave me your address.” You and Bill got in the car together, you took a spot in the middle seat, trying to be a part of the conversation. “Let’s go back to Shepard. Tell him about Kemper, tell him what we’ve been doing.” 

“Are you crazy?” You asked. Having known Holden longer, of course you were the one to spout out the more insulting response. 

“You think he’ll listen now?” Bill’s question obviously required more thought.

Holden ignored your question. “Let’s make it official.” 

Bill was still trying to figure this man out. “You don’t want to wait until Sacramento blows over?” 

“No, I want to go back to Sacramento and fix it. If we fix it, Shepard might give us what we want.” 

Even Bill had to admit that Holden could have a point, albeit hesitantly admit it. “If shit hits the fan, Holden, I’m not going down with you.” 

“Understood.” He couldn’t help the small smile that forced its way on his face as he started up the car again. 

Bill was already stressed before you even left his street. He hid behind a cloud of smoke that then escaped through the cracked window. The closer you got to the bureau, the more uneasy you became about the decision. You knew better than to argue with Holden. Something Bill found out much quicker than you did when you met him. Not saying that he backs down from his fights, just that he knows which which battles are worth it. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked the man in the driver’s seat. You weren’t looking for an argument, just some reassurance. 

Bill turned around, forgetting about the smoke in his mouth and accidentally blew it in your face in an attempt to offer a response. You coughed through the smoke as it faded from your sight. “Shit, sorry.” He waved the remaining clouds away, this time minding your personal space. The two of you really couldn’t catch a break. “We really don’t have a choice. It’s gonna come out some way. It’s better if it comes from us.” That’s all you needed. Someone to walk you through it. Bill spent less time with you than Holden did and he already had that pegged in you. 

The rest of the drive to work was mostly silent. No more accidental smoke suffocating and no more stressing out about the confrontation. Only three beating hearts getting ready make a life changing decision. 

The comfortable silence didn’t last long. It was a gradual change between the rustle of the leaves on the trees, which were planted in two lines on either side of the sidewalk, and the matching lines of new recruits that made their presence known by panting through counting the number of jumping jacks. 

Only it stopped being a gradual increase of noise after the final hustle and bustle of the agency’s employees and ringing telephones in the offices when you arrived in Shepard’s office. Although it was agreed that Bill would do the talking, you both should have known that Holden would be the one to break the news. You were all sure that you would have received a not-so-enthusiastic response from the director, and in his defense, Holden could have explained it better. He found no reason to sugarcoat the experiences he had with the killer behind bars. 

“Are you out of your fucking minds?! You interviewed Edmund Kemper?” 

“Not so much interviewed. More like a conversation.” Bill tried to take over while Holden recovered from the reaction of director Shepard. 

“He said interesting things that turned out to be really useful.” You added, hoping it’d help the man understand, but he only responded with a ‘what the fuck’ and rolled his eyes. 

Holden spoke up, “I just had this idea—“ 

He was cut off. “I don’t want to hear your idea. I’m sick of your ideas.” If you were in Holden’s spot, the words from your boss would have stung. “It is not our job to commiserate with these people. It’s our job to electrocute them. How long has this been going on?” 

“Just when we were in California.” 

“The conversations with Kemper shed light on things we’ve been exploring in the unit. There’s a correlation with what we’re finding at crime scenes. It proves that we’re on track.”

Shepard couldn’t stand having to listen to Holden, so he interrupted him again. This time with a sarcastic remark, hoping he’d get the message and leave well enough alone. “Proof the Federal Bureau of Investigation is on track after all these years? Well, golly, what a relief. I am so pleased for us.” 

Shepard’s wishes didn’t turn out the way he’d hoped. “We’re pleased too.” Surely Holden was thinking ‘Look, I can be sarcastic too.’

Director Shepard’s stern glare turned into something more passionate, more angry. “Don’t smart-mouth me, Holden! You fucked up the Gonzales situation, you pissed off the Sacramento DA, and you’ve been interviewing lifers in the state penitentiary.” You now understood why he was so angry. It sounded bad no matter how you said it. Or how you heard it. 

You finally found your voice. “Sir, the insights during these visits may help us identify the person responsible for the attacks in Sacramento and prevent others.” 

The director pointed at each one of you. “Wrong. Wrong. And wrong. Here’s what it is: Burn your notes. Don’t speak to me about this anymore. Don’t put it in any reports. You’re done.” 

“Excuse me, sir!” Holden responded once again in a way that said ‘I can be just as loud.’ “I truly believe there is a vein here that needs to be mined.” 

Shepard was losing patience and was now talking to Holden the way someone would baby down words to help a young child understand. “Okay, kiddo. You’re looking down the barrel. Three whole bags: censure, suspension, transfer.”

You were left in the hallway feeling defeated. You looked between Holden and Bill. Bill shuffled on his feet, as well as Holden. You knew that Holden hated being told ‘no.’ This was a moment where you’d agree with him. The meeting with the director couldn’t have gone worse. Were you going to lose your job? You dreaded thinking about what would happen if you had to go back to your position as a victim’s consult. You didn’t want to think about that. 

Before you knew it, Bill was storming off after the older director and past the closed doors leading to his office. You shared a glance with Holden before going following his heavy footsteps. You were ready to go inside the office and back up your partner, but Holden held onto your forearm to keep you from turning the corner. 

“Sir, permit me to speak.” You heard Bill’s voice talking to, no talking at your boss. “I’ve been doing this shit for seven years. I trained Holden and y/n because they were transferred to my department. He knows his criminal psychology. They’ve done their homework, worked their butts off, and now I think he’s onto something.” 

“Onto what?” Shepard responded with an angry question. “He made friends with the Coed Killer.” 

Bill held back the urge to roll his eyes. “If this is going to work, we need to talk to more subjects.” He tried his best to explain, but it was nearly impossible with the closed-minded man. 

“More? No! What’s next? Charles Manson? When’s he booked for?” 

Although you tried, your grip was nothing compared to Holden’s strength, and he peeked his head around the corner. You knew by the look he gave you that nothing good was going to be coming out of his mouth. “We were thinking June.” 

The two man in the room, thankfully, ignored his snide remark. “We need to use whatever resource—“

“Resource, my ass1 What’s the matter, Bill, you bored with golf?” The shooting accusations and rude comments made you cringe. 

“California jails are full of thrill killers and lust murderers.” By now, Holden was standing inside the room and you were hiding behind him. 

“—And we put them there, that’s our job.” 

“—Dying and rotting on the vine.” 

“Oh, cry me a river, Holden. All the wasted potential.” It was clear that Shepard had enough. Beyond enough. 

“It is wasted potential, sir. We could be using these people.” 

Shepard couldn’t deny that he was curious as to what bullshit would be coming out of the two men’s mouths, but to his surprise, you spoke up. 

“Their knowledge and insight.” You stated matter-of-factly. 

Shepard’s curiosity was getting the best of him. “Of what?” 

“Themselves.” You shrugged your shoulder. 

“Whoselves?!” He was back to his angry demeanor. 

“Then we know what we’re talking about when we speak to other law enforcement.” 

Shepard wasn’t as reluctant to roll his eyes as the three of you were. “Can you make him shut up?” He pointed to Holden while talking to Bill. 

Bill answered quickly with as much sarcasm, “I have not been able to, sir.” The remark made you smirk about the sense of humor, but was soon replaced with a smirk of success. “How do we get ahead of crazy if we don’t know how crazy thinks?” 

There was a silence between the four of you. It was cut off by the defeated sigh, released by Shepard. “I like you, Bill.” He admitted. “I don’t particularly like him, but I like you.” He glared at you and Holden. “Okay, you may continue your little sideshow.” You shared an excited look with Holden. “However,” he continued, “no one can know about it. Clear?” The three of you blinked an approval. “You will relocate yourselves to the basement beneath Behavioral Sciences, reporting directly and exclusively to me.” 

“The basement? I’m 44 years old.” You watched Holden place a hand on Bill’s shoulder as if to say ‘don’t push our luck’ and you couldn’t help but feel jealous at the contact. 

You pushed it away as the director continued, “you may dedicate ten hours of your 50-hour work week to this. If I deem any aspect of it to be unwarranted, unnecessary, or unsavory, I will end it. Do you all understand?” 

“Yes, sir.” You spoke in unison. You added a ‘thank you,’ hoping it would help Shepard realize he was moving forward in the right decision. 

The walk to the elevator was one that appeared to have more of a skip to it. Your brain was so happy that Shepard had accepted your mission that it was overflowing with emotions and trying to find a little bit of a release. You smiled the whole ride down to the victims’ consult unit. You were the first one off of the elevator. “I’ll meet you back here.” You smiled to the men who didn’t share in the same gleeful expression. 

True to your word, you did meet the men back in the elevator, with a box of your belongings from your desk. You were much more chipper than the two. It was obvious that they were not as eager about the move to the basement, and when you got there, you understood. 

The basement was cold and dark. To your dissatisfaction, you discovered that the three of you would have to unstack desks and filing cabinets. You were not looking forward to the work. 

On the way back to the elevator to gather the rest of the items, Bill cleared his throat. “This probably isn’t the best time to tell you I set up a meeting with a friend of mine to get her opinion on the Kemper notes.”


End file.
